


(Para)Normal

by GennaGray



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demons, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Ghosts, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 01 Spoilers, Shapeshifting, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GennaGray/pseuds/GennaGray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mary breaks into his apartment Sam realizes that despite his best efforts the supernatural world he had fought so hard - and escaped from - for so long was knocking on his door and Sam doubts that this time it will be as easy to leave and go back to his "normal" life-style. And Mary? Mary just prays that the house of cards that was her life wouldn't tumble down around her ears - putting both Sam and her at risk while setting John on their trail - as they searched for a missing Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Para)Normal

** Chapter One **

* * *

  
     “Mary?” Sam panted pinned under his younger sister in his darkened apartment. “What the hell- you scared the crap out of me!”  
     “Hi Sammy,” Mary grinned down at him – all sharp teeth that would make even serial killers think twice about messing with his sister in a darkened alley. “Been awhile.”  
     “What are you doing here?” Sam said and swallowed against the elbow buried against his throat. “Mary – elbow.”  
     “Oh. Sorry.” Mary hauled herself back and off of Sam. She rocked on her heels as Sam climbed to his feet and rubbed his throat. “Mary, what the hell are you doing here? Where’s Dean or Dad?”  
     “Well, I was looking for a smoke-“  
     “What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Sam repeated and his sister sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, all right. We need to talk, like, now.”  
     “Haven’t you heard this thing called a phone?” Sam arched his brow and Mary crossed her arms as Sam flicked on the lights. “Would you have answered?”  
     Sam didn’t…have an answer to that he would have liked or would have gotten Mary out of his apartment. “Take a seat,” Sam said with a sigh and waved at his sofa. “And let’s talk about why you’re here without Dad or Dean crawling up your ass.”  
     “Shut the fuck up moron.” Mary swore as she took a seat and kicked her heels up onto the coffee table. “Sit down you moose.”  
     “Mary – why are you here.” Sam repeated and Mary let the grin on her face fall, a dark look crossing it and Sam grew concerned. Mary rarely let that smile drop from her face, not even when she broke her arm when his sister was twelve and fighting off a very pissed off wendigo. It had been one of the reasons for Sam leaving the family business, to turning away and not looking back and not picking up the phone when Dad called – never Dean and Sam tried really, really hard to not think about the reasons why. “Seriously – you wouldn’t show up without a good reason.”  
     “Dad’s been on a hunting trip out West,” Mary licked her lips. “We hadn’t heard from him in a few days so Dean decided to call him to find out what was wrong. We kept calling but only got his voicemail but-“  
     “But what? Mary, Dad’s always going missing on trips – we never find him until he pops back up again a few days later.” Sam scoffed. “Mary what’s going on?”  
     “Two weeks ago I went out for some supplies, we just got done with a voodoo priest and were going to head out in the morning after Dad,” Mary took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. “By the time I got back Dean had disappeared.”  
     “What.” Sam wasn’t aware of his voice going hard and cold, the sudden fury making him dizzy at the revelation.  
     “Dean was gone and- Sam. He left the Impala behind.” Mary swallowed as Sam’s whole body started tingling at the rage he felt and tried to force down. “I don’t-he never-“  
     “I know,” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded him-self to breath, to not pass out right then, he wouldn’t be any help to Mary or Dean- Sam cut those thoughts off at the pass. “Was there anything he left? A message or…?”  
     “No,” Mary shook her head and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “And that was nearly two weeks ago – I’ve been able to track Dad down to Jericho but not much further. I was hoping…I thought maybe he might know where Dean was but…”  
     “You wanted to see if he was with me.” Sam slowly said and Mary nodded. Her face was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes, Sam thought she probably drove non-stop looking for Dean on the way out to California. “He’s not…I haven’t heard from Dean since I left for college.”  
     “I…know that now.” Mary swallowed tightly and nodded. “Sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bother right now, you’re probably busy – I’ll call you if I’ve found something-“  
     “Mary,” Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Mary take the couch – you look exhausted.”  
     “I…”  
     “Please, take the couch – it’s not like the lead’s going to go somewhere.” Sam said and saw Mary give in. “Come on, go have a hot shower while I get you some blankets.”  
     “…Thanks Sammy,” Mary said gratefully as she climbed off the sofa and bit her lip anxiously. “You sure-“  
     “Go take the shower.” Sam directed and Mary was off. Sam easily got the sofa set up by the time Mary came back out wrapped up in a fluffy towel, her long blonde hair out of the braid – easily a Marine shower with how long it took. Soon Mary was stretching out on the sofa, clad in an old t-shirt of Sam’s and flicked off the light as Sam got back into bed.  
     Sam laid in his bed, his mind going around and around in circles, as he tried to think with a clear head by all he could think was about Dean. Dean that was missing, Dean that hadn’t gone with Sam, Dean that cared more about Mary than him, Dean that was missing. Around and around it went until finally Sam climbed out of bed and sat on the floor. Pulling out his old toy-trunk Sam flipped through the combination easily and opened the trunk, gleaming weapons and dusty books sat inside and looked back up at Sam.  
     Just because Sam got out of the hunting business didn’t mean Sam was going to go around without supplies – just in case.  
     Sam probably knew what he was going to do since Mary told him Dean was missing, he didn’t even need to think or worry about work or school or Jesse. Sam pulled out the duffle-bags from under his bed and began packing his stuff up, one for his supplies and the other for his clothes. Dean was family and family took care of each other – even if…even if they didn’t find Dean Sam knew that Dean would have wanted Sam to look after Mary for him. Hell, Sam might even convince Mary to get her GED and go to college – it always irritated Sam that their Dad considered school a waste of time after their Mom was killed.  
      Before their Mom died it was all John wanted for his kids.  
      By the time dawn arrived Sam was packed, showered and dressed, and cooking breakfast – a box filled with some staples for the road. Mary stumbled into the kitchen, hair a riot of messy curls down her entire back, and rubbing her eyes that took Sam back to his teenage-hood when Mary was a little girl. Pouring a cup of coffee, since Sam doubted that Mary drank anything else – unless Dad got her started on the beer because he did it to Dean from what Sam remembered.  
     “Goddamn this is good,” Mary said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Where the hell did you learn to do this? Dean can’t cook worth a damn.”  
     “Practice and really the only meal I can cook,” Sam dryly said and filled up Mary’s coffee mug for the third time. “Coffee stunts your growth you know.”  
     “So does smoking and I’ve haven’t shrank from that yet.” Mary snorted as she gulped down her coffee – she turned down milk and sugar for it with a sneer. “I’m short and always going to be fucking short – so I’ll drink coffee and smoke as much as I want to.”  
     “You smoke?”  
     “You prefer me to drink?” Mary shot back and held out her mug. “More. Please.”  
     Sam rolled his eyes but refilled the mug. He would work on that smoking habit, after a few months Mary shouldn’t be smoking if Sam got his way. Two hours later Sam was locking up his apartment as Mary stowed their stuff in the Impala, Sam was just glad that he had finished college and applying for work at the local offices. God only knew how long this trip to Jericho was going to take, days, maybe a week. After that Sam hoped they would find Dean and if they didn’t…  
     Sam wasn’t exactly sure what he would do next.  
     “So, what do you know Dad was hunting?” Sam asked as they cruised down the highway a few hours later, the radio faintly blaring an eighties rock-station. Mary had seized control over the car nearly as soon as they had loaded up Sam’s things but Sam didn’t mind so he let her.  
     “A spirit – I think.” Mary tapped her fingers along the wheel as they drove towards Jericho. “He was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho. About a month ago some guy disappeared, completely MIA, and normally this wouldn’t ping on our radar but he’s the tenth one to disappear on the same stretch of road in the past twenty-years.”  
     “And Dad went, just on that?”  
     “Yeah, since the number had picked up over the past few years – to just dig around and make sure it wasn’t a bunch of dead-beats skipping out or something.” Mary told Sam as she flicked the radio off. “That was about three weeks ago and we started getting worried, and then Dean…”  
     “Yeah. I get the picture.” Sam sighed as he leaned against his seat as Mary took the turn-off to Jericho. “And then you headed my way. Do you know where Dad or Dean might have stayed?”  
     “No but that’s what you’re going to be doing until we get there,” Mary said as she nodded towards the glove-compartment. “That’s my cell-phone and all the lists of motels Dean would have stayed at – ask for Hector Aframian, its Dean’s current alias.”  
     “You are still running those credit-card scams?” Sam dryly said as he dug around in the cluttered glove-compartment for the pad of numbers and the cell-phone. “That shit can get you into serious trouble.”  
     “And hunting isn’t exactly something you get paid for.” Mary shot back as she rolled down her window for some cool wind. “I mean, we do well enough with the few odd and end jobs Dean picks up when it gets slow – and I might have…my fingers in a few pies electronically.”  
      “…Do I even want to know?” Sam asked in slight suspicion and Mary only laughed as they sped down the dusty highway. “No, you really don’t.”  
      “All right, so the good news is no-one matching Dean’s description at either hospital or the morgue,” Sam told Mary two hours later as they crossed over into Jericho, slowing down for the traffic bottle-necking a bridge. “So that’s something I guess.”  
     “Check it out,” Mary said out of the corner of her mouth as they slowed to a near crawl. “Something’s up.”  
     “We should pull over and see what’s going on-“  
     “Hell no,” Mary shook her head and pointed at Sam. “That’s what Dean does all the time – and winds up in jail on impersonating an officer or a federal agent or something similar – and then I have to either bail him out with counterfeit money or the old fashion jail-break. I’m not getting into that habit with you Sammy.”  
     “Sammy is a chubby twelve year-old frightened of monsters under his bed,” Sam shot back and Mary laughed as the cops waved them to stop – which wasn’t hard with how slow the line was moving with the blockade up. “Excuse me ma’am – but might I see some identification?”  
     “Sure officer,” Mary said cheerfully as Sam felt his entire body tense up in response. She reached around into the back seat and pulled a wallet up and dug through it before handing over her ID. “Mary Winchester and this is my older brother Sam.”  
     “ID sir?” Sam pulled his wallet out of his back-pocket after a bit of a struggle and handed over his ID. The officer compared both pictures with Mary and Sam before handing them back. “Thank you for your cooperation in this matter Ms. Winchester.”  
     “Not a problem officer,” Mary said as she tucked her ID back into the wallet and tossed it into the back leather seats. “Might I ask…what’s going on?”  
     “An incident ma’am – a routine blockade to make sure that our missing driver is found either leaving or entering our town again.” Mary nodded and the officer frowned at the duo. “Can I ask what the two of you are doing in Jericho? We’re not exactly a popular tourist destination…”  
     “Oh! We run a website – Urban101 – where we tract down urban myths and legends to record them for other folklorist’s,” Sam was impressed with the lies spewing from Mary’s mouth – he just hoped she had a website to back it up. “An amusing hobby for us, but makes for a good family trip a few times a year.”  
     “Hmmm. Move along and I hope you enjoy stay here in Jericho.” The officer stepped back and waved them along. Mary nodded and pulled away from the officer, Sam didn’t relax until they were across the bridge and into town. Sam heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back into his seat in relief. “That was fucking close – Urban101?”  
     “It’s an actually website,” Mary told Sam seriously as she looked for the type of dive-motel Dean or Dad would have stopped at. “I built it and run it myself, it’s a good cover-story when Dean and I need to split up on a case. You’ll be surprised at how willing people are to talk once they realize I’m not a cop or a reporter – a crack-pot but mostly harmless that they didn’t mind talking to in the long-run.”  
     “There,” Sam pointed at the motel pushed up against a wood. “I would stop in there – good cover if I need to slip out the back.”  
     “Yeah.” Mary pulled into the nearly empty lot and turned over the Impala. She tapped the wheel in thought. “You get us a room – cash only – while I check and see if Dean or Dad has a room here they paid for.”  
     “That’s it?” Sam asked and Mary rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do Sam? Not like I can do anything else at this point out of researching who the spirit is – this is all I’ve got.”  
     “Two beds?” Sam asked getting out of the car and Mary nodded. “Yeah, see if you can’t get a room close to the road for a quick getaway in-case things go south.”  
     “You expect them to?”  
     “Live and learn Sam, live and learn.” Mary told her brother wisely as she climbed out of the Impala. “Get hopping – I’ve got some locks to pick.”  
     “Don’t get arrested Mary for the love of God.”  
 

* * *

  
      Mary, who prided herself on being the brains of the operation between her and Dean, picked the locks on the bathroom window and snuck inside the forth room she had checked so far. It had been easy enough narrowing down which rooms Dean might have been in, the ones currently occupied or had cars parked in front of doors – everything left was a possible location. Mary slipped out the bathroom and peeked into the main-room and grinned.  
     “Janga,” Mary whispered as she stared at the pin-ups of local newspaper clippings and a bunch of demon-lore. “What the fuck…”  
     Knowing there wasn’t much time Mary started pulling things off the wall and shoving them into her back-pack, there wasn’t much else for her to do but sort it all out in the room Sammy was renting. Soon Mary had everything down off the walls and tucked away in her pack, before leaving Mary kneeled by the dresser and felt along the underside. Her fingers scratched along the rough plywood bottom until it hit smooth gaffer, her nails picked at it until it was loose before peeling it free. A thick book smacked into Mary’s hands and she pulled it out, it was an old-fashioned leather journal, and there was a faint set of J.E.W stitched into the corner.  
     “Well, fuck.” Mary swallowed as she realized it was her Dad’s journal – she hadn’t seen it since she was twelve and Mary knew that their Dad was in some kind of trouble if he was leaving it in Dean’s care. “This isn’t good.”  
     “This isn’t good.” Sam unknowingly repeated several minutes later when Mary showed it to him. “So we know Dad was here at least, what about-“  
     “No, I know Dean was here and I’m pretty sure he ran into Dad if Dean had that on him.” Mary told Sam as she sat on the edge on one of the twin beds. “Dean and I – we have this system, that if we get enough warning and we need to take a runner to tape a message of some kind along the bottom of a dresser – if there isn’t space we do it on the underside of the bathroom counter.”  
     “That’s pretty smart,” Sam told Mary as he flicked through the overfull pages. “Let me guess – Dean came up with it?”  
     “Yeah, said it was the only space where people don’t check or get cleaned at all.” Mary reached for her pack and began pulling all the loose paper out. “I think Dean or Dad found out what we’re dealing with – but with all this demon-lore up on the wall I’m not sure…”  
     “…You don’t think?” Sam asked cautiously and Mary…she didn’t scoff at it. She believed in God, had to with all the crap she put up with, but if she believed in God she had to believe in the other stuff – hellfire and brimstone. “Mary…?”  
     “I…maybe?” Mary offered weakly and shrugged as she grasped her cross – their mothers or so Dean always said. “I don’t know man, demons? But I look at our life…”  
     “Yeah,” Sam snorted. “Might explain all the possession stories and those Exorcist movies; could be there’s been a few demon’s hunters have run into before – how it got spread.”  
     “Well, I vote we focus on our little spirit or whatever and shelve the whole demon-thing, okay?” Mary offered and didn’t wait to hear Sam’s agreement. “So you go hit the library and find out anything else you can find about these MIA men while I sort through this nonsense.”  
     “Sure – I’ll swing by in a few hours, we’ll go into town and compare notes.” Sam offered as Mary tossed him the keys. “Sounds good, look up and find the local watering hole. That would be a great place to find local rumors and gossip – might even spill a few of the local ghost stories once the drink gets flowing.”  
     “…You’re not even eighteen yet,” Sam said slowly and Mary merely grinned at Sam. “I don’t want to know about this either?”  
     “No, you really, really don’t.”  
     Sam shook his head as he left, locking up behind him and Mary cracked her neck with a sigh. She had better get the room on lock-down before she settled in for shifting through Dean’s version of organized – there was a reason why Mary was the only one allowed to record the things they encountered into a journal and then post to the website. (And all the lies Mary had been telling Sam about Dad and Dean were going to get her in so much trouble but Mary was in the middle of the ocean and sharks were beginning to circle – if lies meant a life-vest on Sam than Mary was willing to lie for the life-vest.)  
     Dean would be pissed though that Mary dragged Sammy back into the hunters-life after her brother fought so hard to get him out of it – once a hunter, always a hunter in Mary’s book and why Sam wanted a normal life was beyond her.  
     Unzipping her duffle-bag Mary grabbed the canister of rock-salt before lining the windows and doors, even the bathroom and the closet, with a thick layer of salt – making sure the line under the door was far enough out that when Mary or Sam opened the doors they wouldn’t disturb the salt-line. It was an ingrained habit, one taught to Mary before she even learned to ride a bike – with trainer-wheels – and one she did without thinking.  
     It was time-consuming to suppurate out the demon-lore with what wasn’t demon-lore but Mary did it until all there was left ten missing-flyers, several photo-copies of stories involving highway spirits and hitchhiking ghosts. Not sure where to go from there Mary wanted to keep shifting through the papers, read them a bit more in-depth but Sam was honking the horn in the parking-lot – Mary shoved all the papers under her mattress before leaving.  
     “So, tell me you having something because I’m out.” Mary told Sam as she climbed into the Impala. “There’s nothing there – a few things but until we actually know more…”  
     “Well, checked the local papers and so far nothing on the men – I then checked the history of Centennial Road and so far nothing violent or bloody but I did find mention of a bridge jumper but nothing more.”  
     “Damn! No names or something?” Mary asked and Sam shook his head. “No but I’m hoping someone local can point me in the right direction.”  
     “Great,” Mary huffed out a breath. “Hope you like bar-food.”  
     The bar, Pansy’s, was loud, packed and smelt like a dive and it was barely four in the afternoon. Mary tucked her hands into her leather-jacket and followed after Sam into the bar, edging close at how packed it was. Dean would have been furious if he had known Mary was in a bar, he tried to keep her out of it, but Mary had her ways.  
     All very sneaky and seven kinds’ of illegal.  
     “How exactly are you able to order beer and get past cops?” Sam asked as they both settled into a both, Sam with a beer and Mary with a couple of shot-glasses, and three baskets of chili curly-fries. “I mean, you actually do look like your sixteen.”  
     “Fake ID’s Sammy,” Mary said as she dug her ID out and slid it across to Sam. “Knew as soon as Dean took off I was going to need some more adult ID, being sixteen and on my own? I’m asking for trouble the first time a cop pulls me over for speeding.”  
     “And if I didn’t know any better I would believe the ID, that your actually twenty-one.” Sam held up the ID and frowned at it. “It’s very…I would swear it’s real.”  
     “It is - not even the feds can tell any different.” Mary told Sam proudly as she pointed a curly fry at her brother. “I pride myself on making the best fake ID’s – it’s actually not that hard. I use the exact same programs and materials WP uses for making new identities – it’s picking the age that was difficult.”  
     “Witness Protection!” Sam hissed under his breath. “Mary-“  
     “Shut up moose,” Mary rolled her eyes and took one of her shots of scotch. “You always knew I was good with computers – I just honed that skill a bit more finely with a few online friends that were willing to teach me if I shared what I had, and looked the other way on how I was able to obtain the templates.”  
     “If they tract your electronic trail back to you- you’ll spend an easy fifteen years in prison Mary!” Sam looked pale and Mary sighed before nudging her brothers’ foot with her own booted one. “Listen, it was the one time – Dean needed a template for some FBI electronic key-cards to get at a cursed object they had seized. I may have…taken a copy of all the templates they had at the time since I was in a hurry and didn’t have time to search for what Dean wanted and I got everything – everything the government used the templates for at the time – from WP to SSN.”  
     “And?”  
     “And I may not have told Dean about it – and he won’t know about it Sam,” Mary said sternly as she unzipped her jacket as the heat started to get to her. “And it was the one time, I haven’t been back since to update the systems I use – I had a friend set up a silent-alarm on the data-base system, when anything gets updated I get pinged from them on what exactly was changed so I can make changes to the things I’ve already got.”  
     “…Please tell me you aren’t counterfeiting money either?” Sam begged as he waved at a passing waitress for another beer since he was clutching at his current one rather desperately. Mary snorted and took another shot. “Hell no – I don’t mess with shit like that. You’re more likely to get caught and that amount of equipment I’ll need is outrageous.”  
     “Thank god for small favors.” Sam muttered thankfully and chugged his beer down in one go, just in time to get his next one from the waitress. “So, twenty-one?”  
     “Eighteen wouldn’t have gotten me into bars so…” Mary shrugged as she watched the waitress leave. “It’s a bit of a bend, I look stupidly young – there’s been a few times a cop has run my social through the system to see if I’m really twenty-one.”  
     “…Is this something else I don’t need to know about?” Sam asked as he tried to wrap his mind around the level of hacking his sister had done to make sure she was twenty-one – and all the type of favors Mary must owe or be owed. “How can-will-“  
     “The only people that actually know I’m not twenty-one are you, Dean, Dad and Bobby – maybe the midwife that delivered me but she’s dead, old age if I remember correctly.”  
     “So Mary Winchester….?”  
     “Was born October thirty-first nineteen-eighty-four – I’ve got medical records and doctor visits to back that up. All fake of course but I’m twenty-one and no-one can say different.” Mary proudly said and sighed. “It was thanks to Mom actually I was able to go in and fix all of that – and Dad for insisting on home-schooling me after Mom died.”  
     “Why?”  
     “Because hospital records are harder since there’s also the actual physical paper-work I would have to tract down and replace with fakes.” Mary started in on her fries. “Well, enough about my illegal activities – you’ll go to jail as an accomplice if I tell you anymore – what do you think we got?”  
     “Not sure really,” Sam picked at his fries and pushed his over to Mary as she soon wiped hers out. “I want to say spirit but…”  
     “No dead bodies.” Mary concluded and dug in the chili-fries – she was starving. “And I don’t think it’s a poltergeist – they tend to stick to houses or objects not long stretches of road.”  
      It was quiet as they both tried to think over what had caused the missing-persons when a thought occurred to Sam, one that felt completely right and he wanted to smack himself for not thinking of it. Clearing his throat Sam told Mary when she looked up about his idea.  
     “Mary, if angry spirits are born out of violent death…maybe it wasn’t a murder after all.” Sam slowly said and Mary nodded as she ate the last of Sam’s fries. “Maybe it was suicide.”  
     “You know…” Mary said as she started eyeing the bar before focusing in on two goth-girls off in the corner, they were standing close and both looked like they were just this side of intoxicated. “You might be onto something there.”  
     “What are you doing?” Sam asked alarmed as Mary tossed back her shot and stood up. “I’m going to go bother those two under-aged girls about any local suicides – before I threaten to turn them into the barkeeper for being under-aged.”  
     “Mary!”

* * *

  
       “Constance Welch,” Mary told Sam proudly as she came back to the table and Sam felt like pulling his hair out. “She’s our suicide.”  
     “Why?”  
     “It was about twenty-years ago and she jumped off Centennial Bridge in her grief over her children dying.” Mary said as she eyed her missing shot-glasses and waved a waitress over and ordered four more. “But rumors will be rumors, especially in a small town, and it turns out that most people thought that sweet Constance killed her kids before killing herself.”  
     “Did the husband cheat on her?” Sam asked and Mary smirked at him. “Jangja moose – not that it was ever proven but Joseph Welch was rather loose with his affection after a few drinks at the local watering hole.”  
     “Woman in white?” Sam said and Mary agreed. “Woman in white.”  
     “Did they say were the body was buried?” Mary shook her head. “No but I bet that her husband knows where.”  
     “We’ll have to go tomorrow with how late it is,” Sam said as he took a glance at his watch. “But…want to take a stroll along the river?”  
     “Let’s go – after I finish my shots.” Mary said and Sam shook his head. “Nope – let’s go now.”  
     “Fine,” Mary pouted as she tossed down cash for the bill. “You’re a spoil-sport.”  
     Sam rolled his eyes and herded Mary out of the bar, easily parting through the crowd until they were outside and crawling into the Impala. Dusk was just happening and it cast shadows all over the place, it was beautiful while it lasted until night fell. By the time they reached the bridge they had crossed over it was full-on night and the blockade was thankfully gone so they had the whole place to themselves. Pulling off to the side both Winchester’s climbed out of the Impala and into the nippy night air to take a good look around the bridge.  
     “So this is where dear Constance took a header,” Mary said as she leaned out over the railing to stare down into the swiftly moving river. “Nice.”  
     “You think Dean might have been here?”  
     “Not sure but if he was – he would have.” Mary said as she looked out over the sprawling forest by the river. “I don’t know Sam – I don’t like Dean taking off like that, especially after Dad disappearing…”  
     “It’s going to be fine, alright?” Sam wrapped his arms around his sisters’ shoulder and hugged her tightly from behind. He forgot sometimes that for all of Mary’s toughness, she was tougher than Dean or Sam was – Mary was only sixteen. “We’re going to take care of this Woman and find out where Dean went next, okay? We might even find Dad too while we’re at but let’s just focus on this hunt.”  
     “…Right.” Mary nodded and pushed away from the railing. “Okay. Let’s get the salt and guns – I want to find out if her body is around her or something is holding her here.”  
     There was a flicker out of the corner of Sam’s eye when and he turned to get a good look, Mary turning with him as if she saw the movement too, and on the railing several dozen feet away was a woman dressed in a white gown. Sam didn’t get a good look at her face before she jumped, muffling a curse Sam ran over to the spot, Mary right behind him, and they both looked over the railing into the smooth waters.  
     “Where’d she go?” Mary asked as they both searched the water with their eyes. “Sam?’  
     “I don’t-“Sam’s voice was cut off as high-beams suddenly lit-up and the Impala’s engine turned over. Both stepped back and looked at the car as the engine idled, reeving up and rocking on its wheel’s – Sam instantly thought carjacker and took a step-forward when Mary gripped his arm tightly and pulled him back. “Mary, what the-“  
     “No-one’s driving the Impala,” Mary said as she eyed the car and reached into her pocket to pull out the car-keys. “Only Constance I’m willing to bet.”  
     “Well fuck.”  
     At that the car roared as it jumped, picking up speed as it heard directly to them, Mary turned on her heel and began running along the bridge, dragging Sam behind with her. Sam knew they wouldn’t be able to outrun the Impala, it was a car and could go a lot faster than they could, so when the car was nearly upon them Sam turned right suddenly and slammed into the railing tucked between the support-beams. He meant to get them out of danger – he didn’t intend for Mary to hit the railing and go flipping over into the wet darkness below. Sam pushed himself up onto the railing, straddling it as the Impala died just as suddenly as it started, as his eyes scanned the waters.  
     “Mary! Mary!” Sam shouted as he leaned further out. God, if Dean found out- Dean was going to- “Mary!”  
     There was a large ripple and his sister’s head burst from the surface sputtering as she bobbed in place, she brushed the wet strands of her hair out of her face, freed from the braid she had put it in. She treaded water as she waved her fist up at Sam, he was glad he couldn’t hear exactly what his sister was saying – from what little he thought she had been saying it wasn’t anything good.  
     “I smell like a toilet,” Mary complained to Sam after she fished herself out of the river and checked over the Impala’s engine. “I hate you so much right now.”  
     “How’s the car?”  
     “No problem thanks to Constance – what a bitch!” Mary shouted as she slammed the hood down and Sam muffled a snort. “Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, obviously, that’s for sure.”  
     “I vote that we get back to the motel, I take a shower and we hit the sack.” Mary offered and nudge Sam’s shoulder. “I know moose need their sleep.”  
     “Shut up bitch.”  
     “You shut up moose.”  
     Sam kept his comments to himself but he was sure that the rolled down windows spoke volumes if Mary’s glaring silence was anything to go by. The slamming of the bathroom door also made Mary’s attitude clear about her dunking into the dirty river-water clear, Sam decided he would do a little more research so he changed into a more comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt to sleep in and grabbed his laptop. By the time Mary came out two hours later scrubbed pink and red all over clad in a pair of black leggings and a loose Coke-Cola shirt. Sam eyed his sister, eyed the bag she kept near her bed, the boots she placed neatly under the nightstand and the large machete she was now tucking under her pillow.  
     “Are…are you really always this prepared to split and run in the middle of the night?” Sam asked curiously as Mary slid underneath her covers and turned onto her belly. Sam was sure that her hand would be wrapped around the handle of the machete, an ingrained response after so many years of their Dad drilling it into her head. “Really?”  
     “Safety first Sammy,” Mary said seriously as she closed her eyes, clearly ready to drop off. “And shut your cake-hole moose – I want to get a few hours’ sleep tonight before we go and interrogate the husband.”  
     “Whatever.” Sam rolled his eyes before flicking off the light, only his computer screen giving light to the room. “Go to sleep bitch.”  
     “Moose.” Came Mary’s muffled response and Sam hid his laughter. Mary always had to be the one with the last word – even when she was six and complaining to Sam and Dean, who had been twelve and sixteen, about how hard it was to get blood out of her Sunday dress after they had tracked down a rather pissed off poltergeist. Mary was just…Mary.  
     Something about her as the saying went and all.  
     “So, what did you find out?” Mary asked around a breakfast sandwich they had picked up from McDonalds. “You were up all night – your tapping kept waking me up.”  
     “Sorry,” Sam apologized. “Nothing much – only that Joseph Welch owns a salvage-yard on the out skirts of town and has at last count four ex-wives.”  
     “Including Constance?”  
     “No, just the four.”  
     “Damn,” Mary swore around her wrap. “He’s got to be a great lay if he keeps getting married like that – I mean, have you seen his photo’s?”  
     “Oh my god, Mary!” Sam protested as he tried to focus on the road leading out to the salvage-yard. “I need brain bleach now!”  
     “Sorry,” Mary apologized not sounding at all sorry. “But, really, what do you think?”  
     “…I don’t want to know really.” Sam said as he tried really hard to not think about what Mary said. “I was thinking you should lead, say we’re reporters or something.”  
     “Huh.” Mary twisted a curl she had captured, Sam had hustled Mary so fast out of the room once she woke up Mary hadn’t had time to do her hair. “Let me guess – all his ex’s are blonde and young?”  
     “Oh yeah, really blonde and really young.”  
     “Money and a great dick.” Mary nodded sagely and Sam swerved on the road as he tried to not react to what Mary said. He failed, badly, if Mary’s ringing laughter was anything to go by. “God! What did you do at college if you’re reacting this way!”  
     “I studied!” Sam snapped back as he turned onto the gravel road leading to the salvage-yard. “God! You’re just like Dean when he was sixteen! All dirty jokes and leers!”  
     “And he didn’t change as he grew older either.”  
     “Alright,” Mary brushed off the crumbs from her breakfast wrap and climbed out of the car, her leather-jacket zipped up to ward-off the morning chill, and slammed her car-door shut. “Let’s do this.”  
     “Hi,” Mary said cheerfully after she knocked on the door and a man in his fifties answered the door. “Mister Welch right?”  
     “Yes ma’am,” The man, Welch, said as he slicked back his thinning hair and pulled a cap on. “Can I help you miss…?”  
     “Callie Smyth,” Mary said as she held out her hand for Welch to shake. “And this is Joey Addams – we’re psychology majors with UCSF and working on a paper about suicide and grief – we heard from records that after your children died your wife killed herself – may we talk to you about what happened?”  
     “Uh, sure, I guess.” Welch said as he stepped outside. “Here, it’s a bit…crowded inside of my house.”  
     Trailer more like but Sam kept his comments to himself as Mary careful spun a well thought-out story that even to Sam’s ears sounded believable. Sam nodded along in the right spots as Mary carefully coaxed the story out of Welch, even the cheating bit too, but by that point Welch was all up in Mary’s personal-space bubble and all but playing with his sisters’ hair.  
     It was all Sam had to not punch the asshole right then and there.  
     “Thanks so much,” Mary gushed as she twisted and tugged at one of her long curls, peeking up through her lashes and a giggle barely hid in her voice as she all but pressed herself against Welch’s side. “Joey and I will sure get an A for this! You don’t know how much you’ve saved our grades for this class!”  
     “Well, now,” Welch ducked his head in a well-shucks motion. “How about me and you get a drink later – talk a little more about this class of yours.”  
     “Really?” Mary batted her eyes up at Welch and smiled a shy smile that obviously had Welch going. “Here – let me give you my number, okay Mister Welch?”  
     “Please darling,” Welch said as he held out his hand and Mary scrawled a number on it. “Call me Joseph.”  
     “Alright – Joseph,” Mary purred as she dropped his hand and tucked her pen away. “I’ll see you around, okay?”  
     “Sure thing,” Welch nodded and leered at Mary – Sam was repenting tax-laws in his head to not give into the urge and punch Welch. “If there is anything else I can do for you Callie-Rae please do give me a call.”  
     Mary merely smiled and turned to walk away, Sam nearly wrinkled his nose in disgust as Welch’s eyes dropped to his sister’s ass to ogle it, before turning back with a surprised look on her face. “Oh! There is one thing you can do for me,” Mary said with a giggle as she dug around in the slim purse she carried before pulling out a photograph. “I can’t believe I was so silly as to forget to ask but – have you seen this guy around?”  
     “Hmmm,” Welch leaned forward and stared at the photo of…it was of Dean Sam noted with a flash of surprise. “No, can’t say I have – who is he?”  
     “A classmate of ours – Hector.” Mary explained as she took back the photo. “I was hoping we could have beat him here – for our paper you know.”  
     “Well, I’m glad he hasn’t been here or I wouldn’t have met such a pretty little thing like you.” Welch said and Marry giggled as she and Sam climbed back into the Impala and drove away. Sam had never been so glad to see the back of something until they cleared the junkyard and was back on smooth highway, he had been this close to knocking the guy’s leering face off – Sam didn’t care what Mary’s ID said she was still his baby sister to his eyes.  
     “Oh my god,” Mary shuddered as she wiped her hands on her jeans repeatedly. “I feel like I need to bathe in lye to get clean.”  
     “Air-head Barbie?” Sam asked and Mary smirked even as she dug around in the purse for a bottle of Purell and started to clean her hands. “Really?”  
     “You will be surprised at how well the air-head blonde act works,” Mary scrubbed at her hands. “Wear some tight jeans, a tube-top and giggle in the right places – they confess all plus a little extra.”  
     “And it probably doesn’t help you and Dean get them drunk to first?”  
     “Dean gets them sloshed while I sit off in a corner looking like a slutty-virgin,” Mary smirked. “Dean comes over, I shoot him down, a few more beers later I approach and everything gets spilled on why exactly the dirt-bag is getting terrorized by a spirit.”  
     Sam shook his head and gripped the wheel tightly before changing the subject. “I vote we pack up and check-out, we’ll salt and burn her body after dark before hitting the road – from there we’ll figure out where Dean or Dad went.”  
     “I agree,” Mary nodded as she wrinkled her nose. “I’m taking another shower when we get back – you search through Dad’s journal, see if he made some note where he was going to next.”

* * *

  
      “This never gets any less disturbing,” Sam told Mary as they searched for the plot Welch told them about along the Breckenridge property. “I mean – we’re digging up a grave.”  
     “Stop whining moose.” Mary told Sam as she hiked the shovels higher up on her shoulder – Sam was carrying the really heavy stuff, the salt and kerosene. “The faster we get this down the faster we can start looking for Dean.”  
     Sam only grunted but stopped grumbling.  
     Mary didn’t understand why Sam had such a problem with this, it was all a part of the job, but even Dean didn’t like it. Digging up graves was a part of a salt-and-burn, it was the only way to guaranty that the spirit was dead properly. That was how it was done, like brushing your teeth – you put toothpaste on the brush and then you scrubbed your teeth. It was secondary to Mary, like breathing was, to do a salt-and-burn this way – if there was another way Mary would do it.  
     Mary shook off her thoughts when her light flashed over a tombstone, she dragged her light slowly back until the plain head-stone was in the light. Sam muttered a thankful curse as he dropped the bag of salt and gas to the ground before lighting up the camping lamps – Mary passed over a shovel and set her own lamp down. She carefully outlined where a coffin would have been placed with a faint line with the tip of her shovel and cracked her neck.  
     “Let’s get this bitch.”  
     “Oh god, my aching back,” Sam panted as Mary continued to shovel out dirt of the hole they had dug. They should have reached the coffin at least two hours ago but Sam couldn’t go long before either his hands started hurting or his back did. Mary didn’t see what the problem was – you could ignore pain until you were safe enough to deal with it. Mary’s back and hands hurt too but Mary knew that there was a first-aid kit in the car as well as pain medication – Mary could ignore the pain until after the job was done and over with. “I forgot how hard this was.”  
     “You’re such a big baby,” Mary told Sam as she tossed another shovelful of dirt out of the hole, the top easily two feet above her head while Sam laid at the edge as he tried to summon the energy to move. “If you’re going to just sit there and bitch keep an eye out for this Constance bitch – she comes at us you need to hit her with the shovel.”  
     “Why?”  
     “I had them specially made after a salt-and-burn nearly broke my arm – the spade is made out of pure iron with the wooden handle is wrapped around an iron-core.” Mary explained as she leaned against her shovel to take a quick break, she was sure there was a coffin just inches below the dirt and that was going to take work to break open. “One wack…”  
     “Iron disperses spirits – at least temporarily.” Sam continued with a grin. “That’s pretty damn smart – buys you enough time to get the job done.”  
     “Dean thought so too,” Mary crossed her eyes and blew a loose curl out of her face. “Makes these jobs so much easier when we’re not on a time-limit at night since we have to worry about snoopers during the day.”  
     Both siblings loud breathing slowly slowed to a stop before Mary gripped her shovel and began digging again, this time it only took two throws of dirt before her spade hit coffin with a muffle thud. Mary’s breathed whooshed out in relief as she began to hurriedly clearing the dirt off the coffin’s lid, Sam getting the salt and kerosene ready for use. With most of the dirt gone Mary carefully pried the lid of the wooden coffin and passed both the shovel and the lid up to Sam before taking his offered hand.  
     He easily pulled her straight up and out of the hole with one hand.  
     “Fucking moose of a giant,” Mary complained as she braced her hands on her knees and took a deep breath before straightening up. “I’m so fucking-“  
     A hand wrapped around Mary’s throat and she went flying into a nearby tree, the woman from the bridge pinned her easily as she glared hatefully into Mary’s face. Sam’s startled shout was missed as Mary slammed her fist into the boney wrist pinning her place but it didn’t do much good. Feeling the fingers tighten around her throat, her lungs seizing for air, Mary wrapped her own hands around the spirits wrist in effort to free herself as her heels caught on the bark and she tried to push herself up, to get more air, but it didn’t work.  
     Mary’s vision started to go, little black dots dancing against the reaching shadows of the tree, when a blur of movement from behind the spirit caught her eye. A shovel slammed through Constance, who screamed at them both before frizzing out and Mary dropped to the leafy-ground as she wheezed for air. Sam hauled her to her feet and pushed Mary towards the duffle bag with a strong shove.  
     “Go! I’ll keep her busy!” Sam shouted and Mary nodded weakly as she stumbled over to the open bag. “Hurry!”  
     Mary gripped the container of salt before dumping it into the open grave, making sure to shake it so all the bones got salted, when Sam gave a muffled shout and Mary looked over her shoulder at her brother. He was pinned to the ground as the spirit tried to shove its hand into Sam’s chest, to grasp his heart from the looks of things Mary’s mind pointed out morbidly. Knowing she was running out of time Mary let the container drop and ripped off the top to the kerosene and began pouring it all out into the grave.  
     “Mary-“ Sam shouted as Mary got tackled from behind, the jug falling into the open grave and into the coffin, and rolled with the spirit as her Dad had taught her to do. Mary got the spirit under her and leaned back, Mary clenched her hand into a fist and slammed it into Constance’s face – the spirit’s lips split and teeth were knocked loose before she fizzled out. “Mary!”  
     “Light the bitch on fire moose!” Mary shouted back as she climbed to her feet, hands held up to strike back – the moon-light highlighting the iron knuckle-rings she had slipped on before they left the Impala. A good thing too since Constance seemed to be a tricky bitch to kill. “I’ve got her!”  
     The wind rustled behind Mary and sheer instinct made Mary duck as Constance dived at her, Mary turned with the spirit as she watched it warily until Constance shrieked – her eyes focusing on Sam behind Mary. Mary didn’t even need to know that Sam had set the bitch on fire, watching as the spirit scream and parts of her burned made that very clear. Mary watched until there was nothing left before turning her back and headed towards Sam, who was standing beside the burning grave.  
     “Well,” Mary rasped as she rubbed her throat. “That was fucking fun.”  
     “Yeah, sure it was.” Sam rolled his eyes and rubbed at his chest before eyeing Mary. “You okay?”  
     “Feel like I got strangled by a bitch,” Mary said as she took a seat on the pile of dirt they had tossed out of the grave. “Going to take a while – go get me some bottles out of the boot.”  
     “Why?”  
     “Because we’ve got several dozen pounds worth of grave-dirt Sammy,” Mary stared at Sam like he was stupid. “And I think we should take a couple of bottles.”  
     “Mary!” Sam yelped. “That is- that’s desecrating a grave!”  
     “We just dug up a corpse and set her on fire – I doubt we could do anything worse tonight Sammy.” Mary rubbed her throat and knew she was going to have some impressive bruises in a few hours. “Chop, chop – we’re wasting time.”  
     Sam threw his hands up in the air before picking up a flash-light and headed back to the car, stumbling through the woods and Mary shook her head. Sam was the perfect example of what happened when a hunter went soft or spent too long without hunting, they became weak and easily defeat able – Mary was able to get the drop on Sam only a few days ago and pin his ass down.  
     Mary couldn’t have done that before Sam left for college.  
     “Alright,” Mary said cheerfully as she bottled up the grave-dirt and shoved it into the duffle-bag that had contained the salt and kerosene. By that point the fire had gutted out and was just smoking. “Let’s fill up this grave and get the hell out of here.”  
     “I couldn’t agree more.” Sam said with feeling as he reached for a shovel. “Let’s hurry this up.”  
     Filling the grave took shorter than it did to empty it out – it was always that way – so within an hour Sam and Mary were climbing back into the Impala and heading out to the main highway to get back to Stanford. Sam had taken the wheel, citing that Mary had worse injuries, and Mary was too tired from all the digging to make a fuss over it. It was going to be late morning by the time they got back to Stamford and Mary vaguely hoped that Sam didn’t have somewhere he needed to be.  
     “Just go to sleep Mary,” Sam said suddenly after Mary’s head dipped forward three times within five minutes. “I don’t mind driving all night – get some sleep okay?”  
     “Fine, fine – but I want to stop for some breakfast on the way back. McDonalds or something,” Mary muttered as she lowered her seat back a little and crossed her arms over her chest. It was easy to fall asleep in the rhythmic movants of the car, the lull of it all, sent Mary right to sleep. What she dreamed of, Mary couldn’t say, but it was peaceful enough that it kept Mary sound asleep for the entire trip back to Sam’s apartment. She surfaced only briefly when the car stopped but fell back asleep several moments later, a brief glimpse of stairs and then a couch.  
     It was mid-afternoon when Mary woke later, stretch out on Sam’s couch and wrapped up in a thick throw, the sounds and smells of something being cooked in the kitchen was what made Mary untangle herself and stumble into the small kitchen and collapse at the table. She stared blearily at Sam until he guided a cup of coffee into her hands and then she was gulping it down, the scent of coffee making the action automatic. Three cups later and eating her first slice of bacon made Mary feel a hundred times more human and she noticed their Dad’s journal open on the counter.  
     “Find anything?” Mary asked Sam as he skimmed through the local paper, he put aside the paper and shook his head. “No, nothing – just information about the monsters we hunt but not much else.”  
     “Well fuck.” Mary swore as she bit savagely into her butter toast. “That’s just fucking great-“  
     “I did find this though,” Sam said as he slid a piece of paper over to Mary. “It didn’t look like Dad’s hand-writing so I assume it’s Deans – does it mean anything to you?”  
     “Oh,” Mary reached out and ran her fingers along a name scrawled across the top of the page, above a long list of numbers. “It’s meant for me.”  
     “How can you tell?”  
     “Because,” Mary smiled at Sam and felt relief course though her body at this simple sign. “Dean calls me Lamb sometimes and these numbers – there a code for something.”  
     “Lamb? As in…?”  
     “Shut up,” Mary laughed as she pushed her plate aside to get a better look at the list of numbers. “That was an awesome show – you liked it too.”  
     Sam only snorted and dug into breakfast and the peace of it made Mary feel like they could do anything, that they could find Dean with this list, could find out why their Dad took off, and maybe even find that old cagily bastard and demanded answers – what exactly did he say to make Dean take off like he had. It was such a good feeling that Mary held it close so she could enjoy longer since in this field of work nothing good ever lasted and you treasured the good while it lasted. And this? This was definitely good.

    

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been sitting in my Supernatural Folder since about season five or six as a rather long one-shot - nearly 7K by the time I was done with it. I had originally wrote it after it had occurred to me that if Sam had been Azazel's end-all be-all Boy-King/Boy-General that wouldn't he have stacked the deck in his favor? That, perhaps, he would have visited more than just that one night in the pilot and beefed up Sam's demon blood?
> 
> And then that got me thinking that if that was the case Azazel would have kept Mary asleep or made her think nothing was wrong, not out of the realm of the impossible, than he could have stretched out the visits over years. So I had wondered if that happened, a few days later, then wouldn't John and Mary had another child? Because of reasons I decided that they would have a daughter next and at some point after that it was when Mary would find Azazel and kick-start off the pilot - just several years later.
> 
> 7K and a season later I had a completed document sitting on a thumb-drive. But over the past few seasons the story popped back into my head and I got to thinking - what would Mary had done/do? And the next thing I know I'm swearing at Metatron after the angels were kicked out during the season finale and breaking out my thumb-drive. It took several first chapters before I was happy with this project, several re-ploting's and diagrams before I was happy with the direction it was going to go in.
> 
> And here it is: not quite 10K like I had originally planned but close enough. And I am a slow up-dater so don't expect set dates or times - maybe once or twice in a month, if I can wrangle the time and patience to sit still long enough to crank out a rough draft and self-edit it later. So, word of advice from my Minion Queen - DON'T bribe/threaten/cajole me into producing chapters.
> 
> It pisses me off and I won't be kind in my response to you.


End file.
